Lockdown fucking sucks for so many people, and I recognise my own luck in being able to weather the pandemic trapped in a house with someone I love, despite their occasional adventures in finding new ways to drive me up the wall. But how do you deal with non-monogamy and Coronavirus? Lockdown living that actively pushes you into monogamy? Today’s guest blogger is Molly Quell, and she’s here to tell you about her experience as a non-monogamous person during Coronavirus.

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How much do you care about porn video quality? Would you veto a video because it doesn’t have enough pixels? Would you skip over a cam stream because the sound was too fuzzy or avoid audio porn if the mic didn’t have a pop guard? My boyfriend gives a massive shit about the quality of particular videos which is not, in itself, a problem… until we watch porn together.

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How do you navigate a relationship in which you have mismatched kinks? Someone on Patreon suggested this as a blog topic recently, and not only do my partner and I not match perfectly kink-wise, I also really love fulfilling requests. I toyed with the idea of churning out some advice about relationship negotiation or communicating your needs, because when people email me with questions like this that’s exactly what I do – send them links to past blog posts about introducing kink or instruct them to go buy this excellent book which is a great jumping-off point to explore your own desires. But as I was structuring that blog post in my head, a conversation happened which made me realise I could give a far more personal answer.

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This story was written based on a suggestion from someone over on Patreon. Come support me there if you’d like to make suggestions for other blog posts, and massive thanks to the person who suggested this topic. The ‘bottomless’ look is very popular in my house, although here we call it ‘top no bottoms’. Or rather, my partner excitedly yells ‘top no bottoms!!’ if I walk into a room wearing a t-shirt and no knickers, and plonk my naked arse onto the sofa. That’s why this one’s written with love as well as horn. Hope you like it.

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The other night, I missed the moment he came. It wasn’t the end of the world, naturally – I miss plenty of his orgasms, because most of them happen when he’s alone. The spaff goes unobserved, as he beats it into a tissue or one of the wank rags I bought for ecological reasons (and also pervy reasons – we’ll get to this in a second). But on this particular occasion, I was a bit sad about missing his cum shot. So he invented a new game for me to play: CSI: Wank.

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